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THE 



It is the only Impartial, Systematic, and Properly Digested History of the 


GREAT SECESSION REBELLION. 

CONTAINING ALL THE 

Documents, Speeches, Messages, Secession Ordinances, Proclamations, Eumors, Incidents, Patriotic Songs 
and Ballads, together with Graphic Accounts of the Movements of 
Troops, both at the North and Sou/-*. 


From the lion. EDWARD EVERETT. 

“* * * I consider tho ‘Record’ a very valuable 
publication. I have sent tho two monthly numbers to 
Mr. Charles Adams by the last steamer. * * * ” 

From the Buffalo Dally Courier. 

“This is a timely publication. Everybody, of course, 
reads the history of the time in the newspapers, but in 
tho Record a consecutiveness is given to tho heteroge¬ 
neous material which tho Press daily furnishes, and it is 
put in a shape well adapted for preservation.” 

From tho Buffalo Morning* Express. 

“This Record will present a complete and valuable 
history of the great American Rebellion, and should be 
in the possession of every one.” 

From the Philadelphia Press. 

“ A work of permanent value and interest.” 

From the X. Y, Commercial. 

“ Well worth having.” 


From the X. Y. Tribune. 

“ As a work of present and futuro reference, it will 
prove very acceptable.” 

From the N. Y. Courier and Enquirer. 

“ Every intelligent person will appreciate it.” 

From tho X. Y. Times. 

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without the aid of a publication like the present, it would 
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gests in its pages all there is of value or interest in the 
journals of the country. * * We cannot speak too highly 
of the industry and sound judgment the work displays.” 

From the Philadelphia Chronicle. 

“The preservation of many of the authenticated state¬ 
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that shall live in history perpetually.” 


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532 BROADWAY, New York, 














0 


VnaH 

Mr. Russell on Bull Run 

With a Note; from the 

Rebellion Record. 


NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM. 
1861 . 







DOCUMENTS. 


1 


( 




/ 


WM. H. RUSSELL’S LETTER 
ON TIIE BATTLE OF BULL RUN. 

Washington, July 19, 1861. 

The army of the North is fairly moving at 
last, and all the contending voices of lawyers 
and disputants will speedily be silenced by the 
noise of the cannon. Let no one suppose that 
the war will be decided in one or two battles, 
or conclude from any present successes of the 
Federalists that they will not meet with stern 
opposition as they advance. The Confederates 
uniformly declared to me after their failure to 
take either Faneuil Hall or the Capitol, they 
would wait in Virginia and “ entice ” the Fed¬ 
eralists into certain mysterious traps, where 
they would be “ destroyed to a man.” There 
is great reliance placed on “ masked batteries ” 
in this war, and the country is favorable to 
their employment; but nothing can prove more 
completely the unsteady character of the troops 
than the reliance which is placed on the effects 
of such works, and, indeed, there is reason to 
think that there have been panics on both sides 
—at Great Bethel as well as at Laurel Ilill. 
The telegraph is faster than the post, and all 
the lucubrations of to-day may be falsified by 
the deeds of to-morrow. The Senate and Con¬ 
gress are sitting in the Capitol within the very 
hearing of the guns, and the sight of the smoke 
of the conflict which is now raging in Virginia. 

Senators and Congressmen are engaged in 
disputations and speeches, while soldiers are 
working out the problem in their own way, 
and it is within the range of possibility that a 
disastrous battle may place the capital in the 
hands of the Confederates; and the news which 
has just come in that the latter have passed 
Bull Run, a small river which flows into the 
Potomac, below Alexandria, crossing the rail¬ 
road from that place, is a proof that Fairfax 
Court-House was abandoned for a reason. It 
is stated that the Confederates have been re¬ 
pulsed by the 69th (Irish) Regiment and the 
79th (Scotch) New York Volunteers, and as 
soon as this letter has been posted I shall pro¬ 
ceed to the field (for the campaign has now 
fairly commenced) and ascertain the facts. If 
the Confederates force the left of McDowell’s 
army, they will obtain possession of the line to 
Alexandria, and may endanger Washington it¬ 
self. The design of Beauregard may have been 
to effect this very object while he engaged the 
bulk of the Federalists at Manassas Junction, 
which you must not confound with Manassas 
Gap. The reports of guns were heard this 
morning in the direction of the Junction, and 
it is probable that McDowell, advancing from 
Centreville, has met the enemy, prepared to 
dispute his passage. 

There are some stories in town to the effect 
that Gen. Tyler has met with a severe check on 
the right, but tho advance of McDowell was 
very cautious, and he would not let his troops 
fall into the ambuscades against which they 
have been especially forewarned. Let specula¬ 


tion, which to-morrow’s news must outstrip, 
cease here, and let us examine tho composition 
of the forces actually engaged with the Confed¬ 
erates. The head of the naval and military 
forces of the United States is the President, in 
theory and in the practice of appointments; but 
Lieut.-Gen. Winfield Scott is u Commander-in- 
Chief ” of the United States Army. His staff 
consists of Lieut.-Col. E. D. Townsend, Assist¬ 
ant Adjutant-General, Chief of the Staff; Col. 
H. Van Renssellaer, A. D. C. (Volunteer;) 
Lieut.-Col. George W. Cullum, United States 
Engineer, A. D. C.; Lieut.-Col. Edward Wright, 
United States Cavalry, A. D. C.; Lieut.-Col. 
Schuyler Hamilton, Military Secretary. 

Tho subjoined general order gives the organ¬ 
ization of the standard of the several divisions 
of the army under Brig.-Gen. McDowell, now 
advancing into Virginia from the lines opposite 
Washington.* 

Some changes have been made since this 
order was published, and the corps has been 
strengthened by the accession of two regular 
field-batteries. The effective strength of the 
infantry, under McDowell, may be taken at 
30,000, and there are about sixty field-pieces at 
his disposal, and a force of about ten squadrons 
of cavalry.f 

The division under Gen. Patterson is about 
22,000 strong, and has three batteries of artil¬ 
lery attached to it; and Gen. Mansfield, who 
commands tho army of Washington and the 
reserve watching the Capitol, has under him a 
corps of 16,000 men almost exclusively volun¬ 
teers ; Gen. McDowell has also left a strong 
guard in his intrenchments along the right bank 
of tho Potomac, guarding the bridges and cov¬ 
ering the roads to Alexandria, Fairfax, and 
Falls Church. Tho division in military occu¬ 
pation of Maryland under Gen. Banks, most of 
which is concentrated in and around Baltimore, 
consists of 7,400 men, with some field-guns. 
The corps at Fortress Monroe and Hampton, 
under Gen. Butler, is 11,000 strong, with two 
field batteries, some guns of position, and the 
fortress itself in hand. Gen. Lyon, who is op¬ 
erating in Missouri with marked success, ha3 
about 6,500 men. Gen. Prentiss at Cairo com¬ 
mands a division of 6,000 men and two field- 
batteries. There are beside these forces many 
regiments organized and actually in the field. 
The army under the command of Gen. Beaure¬ 
gard at Manassas Junction is estimated at 
60,000, but that must include the reserves, and 
a portion of the force in the intrenchments 
along the road to Richmond, in the immediate 
neighorhood of which there is a corps of 15,000 
men. At Norfolk there are 18,000 or 20,000, 
at Acquia Creek 8,000 to 9,000, and Johnston’s 
corps is estimated at 10,000, swollen by tho 
debris of the defeated column. 

The railways from the South are open to the 
Confederates, and they can collect their troops 

* For this order, see page 1, ante.. 

t Here follows an account of McClellan’s Division in 
Western Virginia. 


t 





2 


REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


rapidly, so that it is not at all beyond the reach 
of probability that they can collect 150,000 or 
160,000 men in Virginia, if that number is not 
now actually in the State. In cavalry they 
have a superiority, but the country is not favor¬ 
able for their operations till the armies approach 
Richmond. In field-artillery they are not so 
well provided as the Federalists. They have, 
however, a great number of heavy batteries and 
guns of position at their disposal. Food is plen¬ 
tiful in their camps; the harvest is coming in. 
In general equipments and ammunition the 
Federalists have a considerable advantage. In 
discipline there is not much difference, perhaps, 
in the bulk of the volunteers on both sides, but 
the United States forces have the benefit of the 
example and presence of the regular army, the 
privates of which have remained faithful to the 
Government. If we are to judge from what 
may be seen in Washington, there are mauvais 
svjets in abundance among the United States 
troops. 

The various foreign ministers have been so 
much persecuted by soldiers coming to their 
houses and asking for help, that sentries were 
ordered to be put at their doors. Lord Lyons, 
however, did not acquiesce in the propriety of 
the step, and in lieu of that means of defence 
against demands for money, a document called 
“ a safeguard ” has been furnished to the do¬ 
mestics at the various legations, in which ap¬ 
plicants are informed that they are liable to 
the penalty of death for making such solicita¬ 
tions. Gen. McDowell writes in his despatch 
from Fairfax Court-House : “ I am distressed 
to have to report excesses by our troops. The 
excitement of the men found vent in burning 
and pillaging, which, however soon checked, 
distressed us all greatly.” What will take 
place at the close of a hardly contested action 
in the front of populous towns and villages ? 
The vast majority of the soldiers are very well- 
behaved, but it will require severe punishment 
to deter the evil-disposed from indulging in all 
the license of war. 

The energy displayed in furnishing the great 
army in the field with transport and ambu¬ 
lances is very great, and I have been surprised 
to see the rapidity with which wagons and ex¬ 
cellent field hospitals and sick carts have been 
constructed and forwarded by the contractors. 
The corps in Virginia under McDowell may 
be considered fit to make a campaign in all re¬ 
spects so far as those essentials are concerned, 
and the Government is rapidly purchasing 
horses and mules which are not inferior to 
those used in any army in the world. These 
few lines must suffice till the despatch of the 
mail on Wednesday. 

July 22.—I sit down to give an account— 
not of the action yesterday, but of what I saw 
with my own eyes, hitherto not often deceived, 
and of what I heard with my own ears, which 
in this country are not so much to be trusted. 
Let me, however, express an opinion as to the 
affair of yesterday. In the first place, the re¬ 


pulse of the Federalists, decided as it was, 
might have had no serious effects whatever 
beyond the mere failure — which politically 
was of greater consequence than it was in a 
military sense—but for the disgraceful conduct 
of the troops. The retreat on their lines at 
Centreville seems to have ended in a cowardly 
rout—a miserable, causeless panic. Such scan¬ 
dalous behavior on the part of soldiers I should 
have considered impossible, as with some ex¬ 
perience of camps and armies I have never 
even in alarms among camp-followers seen the 
like of it. How far the disorganization of the 
troops extended, I know not; but it was com¬ 
plete in the instance of more than one regi¬ 
ment. Washington this morning is crowded 
with soldiers without officers, who have fied 
from Centreville, and with “three months’ 
men,” who are going home from the face of 
the enemy on the expiration of their term of 
enlistment. The streets, in spite of the rain, 
are crowded by people with anxious faces, and 
groups of wavering politicians are assembled 
at the corners, in the hotel passages, and the 
bars. If, in the present state of the troops, the 
Confederates were to make a march across the 
Potomac above Washington, turning the works 
at Arlington, the Capitol might fall into their 
hands. Delay may place that event out of the 
range of probability. 

The North will, no doubt, recover the shock. 
Hitherto she has only said, “ Go and fight for 
the Union.” The South has exclaimed, “ Let 
us fight for our rights.” The North must put 
its best men into the battle, or she will inevi¬ 
tably fail before the energy, the personal hatred, 
and the superior fighting powers of her antag¬ 
onist. In my letters, as in my conversation, I 
have endeavored to show that the task which 
the Unionists have set themselves is one of no 
ordinary difficulty; but in the state of arro¬ 
gance and supercilious confidence, either real 
or affected to conceal a sense of weakness, one 
might as well have preached to the pyramid 
of Cheops. Indeed, one may form some notion 
of the condition of the public mind by observ¬ 
ing that journals conducted avowedly by men 
of disgraceful personal character — the be- 
whipped, and be-kicked, and unrecognized 
pariahs of society in New York—are, never¬ 
theless, in the very midst of repulse and de¬ 
feat, permitted to indulge in ridiculous rhodo- 
montade toward the nations of Europe, and to 
move our laughter by impotently malignant 
attacks on “our rotten old monarchy,” while 
the stones of their bran-new Republic are tum¬ 
bling about their ears. It will be amusing to 
observe the change of tone, for we can afford 
to observe and to be amused at the same time. 

On Saturday night I resolved to proceed to 
Gen. McDowell’s army, as it was obvious to me 
that the repulse at Bull Run and the orders of 
the General directed against the excesses of his 
soldiery indicated serious defects in his army— 
not more serious, however, than I had reason 
to believe existed. How to get out was the 






DOCUMENTS. 


8 


difficulty. The rumors of great disaster and 
repulse had spread through the city. The liv¬ 
ery stable keepers, with one exception, refused 
to send out horses to the scene of action—at 
least the exception told me so. Senators and 
Congressmen were going to make a day of it, 
and all the vehicles and horses that could be 
procured were in requisition for the scene of 
action. This curiosity was aroused by the story 
that McDowell had been actually ordered to 
make an attack on Manassas, and that Gen. 
Scott had given him till 12 o’clock to be master 
of Beauregard’s lines. If Gen. Scott ordered 
the attack at all, I venture to say he w r as merely 
the mouthpiece of the more violent civilians of 
the Government, who mistake intensity of feel¬ 
ing for military strength. The consequences 
of the little skirmish at Bull Bun, ending in the 
repulse of the Federalists, were much exagger¬ 
ated, and their losses were put down at any 
figures the fancy of the individual item who 
w'as speaking suggested. “ I can assure you, 
sir, that the troops had 1,500 killed and wound¬ 
ed ; I know it.” I went, off to the head-quar¬ 
ters, and there Gen. Scott’s Aid informed me 
that Gen. McDowell’s official report gave 6 
killed and 37 wounded. The livery keepers 
stuck to the 1,500 or 2,000. The greater the 
number hors de combat, the higher the tariff 
for the hire of quadrupeds. All I could do was 
to get a kind of cabriolet, with a seat in front 
for the driver, to which a pole was affixed for 
two horses, at a Derby-day price, a strong led 
horse, which Indian experiences have induced 
me always to rely upon in the neighborhood of 
uncertain fighting. I had to enter into an 
agreement with the owner to pay him for 
horses and buggy if they w r ere “ captured or 
injured by the enemy,” and though I smiled at 
his precautions, they proved not quite unrea¬ 
sonable. The master made no provision for 
indemnity in the case of injury to the driver, or 
the colored boy who rode the saddle-horse. 
'When I spoke with officers at Gen. Scott’s 
head-qua 1 ters of the expedition, it struck me 
they were not at all sanguine about the result 
of the day, and one of them said as much as in¬ 
duced me to think he w'ould advise me to re¬ 
main in the city, if he did not take it for grant¬ 
ed it was part of my duty to go to the scene of 
action. An English gentleman w T ho accom¬ 
panied me was strongly dissuaded from going 
by a colonel of cavalry on the staff, because, lie 
said, “ the troops are green, and no one can tell 
what may happen.” But my friend got his pass 
from Gen. Scott, who w r as taking the whole 
affair of Bull Bun and the pressure of the mor¬ 
row’s work with perfect calm, and wo started 
on Sunday morning—not so early as we ought, 
perhaps, which was none of my fault—for Cen- 
treville, distant about 25 miles south-west of 
"Washington. I purposed starting in the beau¬ 
tiful moonlight, so as to arrive at McDowell’s 
camp in the early dawn; but the aides could 
not or w'ould not give us the countersign over 
the Long Bridge, and without it no one could 


get across until after 5 o’clock in the morning. 
When McDowell moved away, he took so many 
of the troops about Arlington that the camps 
and forts are rather denuded of men. I do not 
give, as may be observed, the names of regi¬ 
ments, unless in special cases—first, because 
they possess little interest, I conceive, for those 
in Europe who read these letters ; and second¬ 
ly, because there is an exceedingly complex 
system—at least to a foreigner—of nomencla¬ 
ture in the forces, and one may make a mistake 
between a regiment of volunteers and a regi¬ 
ment of State militia of the same number, or 
even of regulars in the lower figures. The sol¬ 
diers lounging about the forts and over the 
Long Bridge across the Potomac were an ex¬ 
ceedingly unkempt, “ loafing ” set of fellows, 
who handled their firelocks like pitchforks and 
spades, and I doubt if some of those who read 
or tried to read our papers could understand 
them, as they certainly did not speak English. 
The Americans possess excellent working ma¬ 
terials, however, and I have had occasion re¬ 
peatedly to remark the rapidity and skill with 
which they construct earthworks. At the Vir¬ 
ginia side of the Long Bridge there is now a 
very strong tete de pont, supported by the 
regular redoubt on- the hill over the road. 
These works did not appear to be strongly 
held, but it is possible men were in the tents 
near at hand, deserted though they seemed, 
and at all events reinforcements could be 
speedily poured in if necessary. 

The long and weary way was varied by dif¬ 
ferent pickets along the road, and by the exam¬ 
ination of our papers and passes at different 
points. But the country looked vacant, in 
spite of crops of Indian corn, for the houses 
w r ero shut up, and the few indigenous people 
whom we met looked most blackly under their 
brows at the supposed abolitionists. This por¬ 
tion of Virginia is well wooded, and undulat¬ 
ing in heavy, regular waves of field and forest; 
but the roads are deeply cut, and filled with 
loose stones, very disagreeable to ride or drive 
over. The houses are of wood, with the 
usual negro huts adjoining them, and the speci¬ 
mens of the race which I saw were well- 
dressed, and not ill-looking. On turning into 
one of the roads which leads to Fairfax Court- 
House, and to Centreville beyond it, the distant 
sound of cannon reached us. That must have 
been about 9| a. m. It never ceased all day; at 
least, whenever the rattle of the gig ceased, the 
booming of cannon rolled through the woods 
on our ears. One man said it began at 2 
o’clock, but the pickets told us it had really 
become continuous about 7^ or 8 o’clock. In 
a few minutes aftenvard, a body of men ap¬ 
peared on the road, w’ith their backs toward 
Centreville, and their faces toward Alexandria. 
Their march was so disorderly that I could not 
have believed they were soldiers in an enemy’s 
country—for Virginia hereabout is certainly so 
—but for their arms and uniform. It soon ap¬ 
peared that there was no less than an entire 




4 


REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


regiment marching away, singly or in small 
knots of two or three, extending for some three 
or four miles along the road. A Babel of 
tongues rose from them, and they were all in 
good spirits, hut with an air about them I could 
not understand. Dismounting at a stream 
where a group of thirsty men were drinking 
and halting in the shade, I asked an officer, 
“Where are your men going, sir?” “Well, 
we’re going home, sir, I reckon, to Pennsyl¬ 
vania.” It was the 4th Pennsylvania Regiment, 
which was on its march, as I learned from the 
men. “ I suppose there is severe work going 
on behind you, judging from the firing ? ” 
“ Well, I reckon, sir, there is.” “ We’re going 
home,” he added after a pause, during which it 
occurred to him, perhaps, that the movement 
required explanation—“because the men’s time 
is up. We have had three months of this 
work.” I proceeded on my way, ruminating 
on the feelings of a General who sees half a 
brigade walk quietly away oil the very morn¬ 
ing of an action, and on the frame of mind of 
the men, who would have shouted till they 
were hoarse about their beloved Union—pos¬ 
sibly have hunted down any poor creature who 
expressed a belief that it was not the very 
quintessence of every thing great and good in 
government, and glorious and omnipotent in 
arms—coolly turning their backs on it when in 
its utmost peril, because the letter of their en¬ 
gagement bound them no further. Perhaps the 
4th Pennsylvania were right, but let us hear no 
more of the excellence of three months’ service 
volunteers. And so we left them. The road 
was devious and difficult. There were few 
persons on their way, for most of the Senators 
and Congressmen were on before us. Some 
few commissariat wagons were overtaken at 
intervals. Wherever there was a house by the 
roadside, the negroes were listening to the 
firing. All at once a terrific object appeared in 
the wood above the trees—the dome of a 
church or public building, apparently suffering 
from the shocks of an earthquake, and heaving 
to and fro in the most violent manner. In 
much doubt we approached as well as the 
horses’ minds would let us, and discovered that 
the strange thing was an inflated balloon at¬ 
tached to a car and wagon, which was on its 
way to enable Gen. McDowell to reconnoitre 
the position he was then engaged in attacking 
—just a day too late. The operators and at¬ 
tendants swore as horribly as the warriors in 
Flanders, but they could not curse down the 
trees, and so the balloon seems likely to fall 
into the hands of the Confederates. About 11 
o’clock we began to enter on the disputed ter¬ 
ritory which had just been abandoned by the 
Secessionists to the Federalists in front of Fair¬ 
fax Court-House. It is not too much to say, 
that the works thrown up across the road were 
shams and make-believes, and that the Confed¬ 
erates never intended to occupy the position at 
all, but sought to lure on the Federalists to 
Manassas, where they were prepared to meet 


them. Had it been otherwise, the earthworks 
would have been of a different character, and 
the troops world have had regular camps and 
tents, instead of bivouac huts and branches of 
trees. Of course, the troops of the enemy did 
not wish to be cut off, and so they had cut 
down trees to place across the road, and put 
some field-pieces in their earthworks to com¬ 
mand it. On no side could Richmond be so 
well defended. The Confederates had it much 
at heart to induce their enemy to come to the 
strongest place and attack them, and they suc¬ 
ceeded in doing so. But, if the troops behaved 
as ill in other places as they did at Manassas, 
the Federalists could not have been successful 
in any attack whatever. In order that the 
preparations at Manassas may be understood, 
and that Gen. Beauregard, of whose character 
I gave some hint at Charleston, may be known 
at home as regards his fitness for his work, 
above all as an officer of artillery and of skill 
in working it in field or in position, let me 
insert a description of the place and of the man 
from a Southern paper:— 

“ Manassas Junction, Virginia, Juno 7,1S61. 

“ This place still continues the head-quarters 
of the army of the Potomac. There are many 
indications of an intended forward movement, 
the better to invite the enemy to an engage¬ 
ment, but the work of fortification still con¬ 
tinues. By nature, the position is one of the 
strongest that could have been found in the 
whole State. About half-way between the 
eastern spur of the Blue Ridge and the Poto¬ 
mac, below Alexandria, it commands the whole 
country between so perfectly, that there is 
scarcely a possibility of its being turned. The 
right wing stretches olf toward the head-wa¬ 
ters of the Occoquan, through a wooded coun¬ 
try, which is easily made impassable by the 
felling of trees. The left is a rolling table-land, 
easily commanded from the successive eleva¬ 
tions, till you reach a country so rough and so 
rugged that it is a defence to itself. The key 
to the wdiole position, in fact, is precisely that 
point which Gen. Beauregard chose for his cen¬ 
tre, and wTiich he has fortified so strongly, that, 
in the opinion of military men, 5,000 men could 
there hold 20,000 at bay. The position, in fact, 
is fortified in part by nature herself. It is a 
succession of hills, nearly equidistant from each 
other, in front of w T hich is a ravine so deep and 
so thickly wooded that it is passable only at 
two points, and those through gorges which 
50 men can defend against a wffiole army. It 
was at one of these points that the Washington 
artillery (of New Orleans) were at first en¬ 
camped, and though only half the batallion 
w^as then there, and we had only one company 
of infantry to support us, we slept as soundly 
under the protection of our guns as if we had 
been in a fort of the amplest dimensions. Of 
the fortifications superadded here by Gen. Beau¬ 
regard to those of nature, it is, of course, not 
proper for me to speak. The general reader 






DOCUMENTS. 


5 


in fact, will have a sufficiently precise idea of 
them by conceiving a line of forts some two 
miles in extent, zigzag in form, with angles, 
salients, bastions, casemates, and every thing 
that properly belongs to works of this kind. 
The strength and advantages of this position at 
Manassas are very much increased by the fact 
that 14 miles further on is a position of similar 
formation, while the country between is ad¬ 
mirably adapted to the subsistence and in- 
trenchment of troops in numbers as large as 
they can easily be manoeuvred on the real 
battle-field. Water is good and abundant, for¬ 
age such as is everywhere found in the rich 
farming districts of Virginia, and the commu¬ 
nication with all parts of the country easy. 
Here, overlooking an extensive plain, watered 
by mountain streams which ultimately find 
their way to the Potomac; and divided into 
verdant fields of wheat, and oats, and corn, 
pasture and meadow, are the head-quarters of 
the advanced forces of the army of the Poto¬ 
mac. They are South Carolinians, Louisian¬ 
ians, Alabamians, Mississippians, and Virgi¬ 
nians, for the most part; the first two, singular 
enough, being in front, and that they will keep 
it, their friends at home may rest assured. 
Never have I seen a finer body of men—men 
who were more obedient to discipline, or 
breathed a more self-sacrificing patriotism. 
As might be expected from the skill with 
which he has chosen his position, and the sys¬ 
tem with which he encamps and moves his 
men, Gen. Beauregard is very popular here. 
I doubt if Napoleon himself had more the un¬ 
divided confidence of his army. By nature, as 
also from a wise policy, he is very reticent. 
Not an individual here knows his plans or a 
single move of a regiment before it is made, 
and then only the colonel and his men know 
where it goes to. There is not a man here 
who can give any thing like a satisfactory an¬ 
swer how many men he has, or where his exact 
lines are. Por the distance of 14 miles around, 
you see tents everywhere, and from them you 
can make a rough estimate of his men; but how 
many more are encamped on the by-roads and 
in the forests, none can tell. The new-comer, 
from what he sees at first glance, puts down the 
numbers at about 30,000 men; those who have 
been here longest estimate his force at 40,000, 
50,000, and some even at 60,000 strong. And 
there is the same discrepancy as to the quan¬ 
tity of his artillery. So close does the general 
keep his affairs to himself, that his left hand 
hardly knows what his right hand doeth, and 
so jealous is he of this prerogative of a com¬ 
manding officer, that I verily believe, if he sus¬ 
pected his coat of any acquaintance with the 
plans revolving within him, he would cast 
it off” 


It was noon when we arrived at Fairfax 
Court-House—a poor village of some 30 or 40 
straggling wooden and brick houses, deriving 
its name from the building in which the Circuit 


Court of the county is held, I believe, and 
looking the reverse of flourishing—and one 
may remark, obiter, that the state of this part 
of Virginia cannot be very prosperous, inas¬ 
much as there was not a village along the road 
up to this point, and no shops or depots, only 
one mill, one blacksmith and wheelwright. 
The village was held by a part of the reserve 
of McDowell’s force, possibly 1,000 strong. 
The inhabitants were, if eyes spoke truth, se¬ 
cessionists to a man, woman and child, and even 
the negroes looked extra black, as if they did 
not care about being fought for. A short way 
beyond this village, Germantown, the scene of 
the recent excesses of the Federalists, afforded 
evidence in its blackened ruins that Gen. Mc¬ 
Dowell’s censure was more than needed. Let 
me interpolate it, if it be only to show that Gen. 
Beauregard and his rival are at least equal in 
point of literary power as masters of the Eng¬ 
lish tongue: 

“ He AD-QUARTERS DEPARTMENT OP VIRGINIA, ) 

Fairfax Court-House, July 18 . \ 

“ General Orders, No. 18.—It is with the 
deepest mortification the general commanding 
finds it necessary to reiterate his orders for the 
preservation of the property of the inhabitants 
of the district occupied by the troops under 
his command. Hardly had we arrived at this 
place, when, to the horror of every right-mind¬ 
ed person, several houses were broken open, 
and others were in flames, by the act of some 
of those who, it has been the boast of the loyal, 
came here to protect the oppressed, and free 
the country from the domination of a hated 
party. The property of this people is at the 
mercy of troops who, we rightly say, are the 
most intelligent, best educated, and most law- 
abiding of any that ever were under arms. But 
do not, therefore, the acts of yesterday cast the 
deepest stain upon them ? It was claimed by 
some that their particular corps were not en¬ 
gaged in these acts. This is of but little mo¬ 
ment; since the individuals are not found out, 
we are all alike disgraced. Commanders of 
regiments will select a commissioned officer as 
a provost-marshal, and ten men as a police 
force under him, whose special and sole duty 
it shall be to preserve the property from depre¬ 
dations, and to arrest all wrong-doers, of what¬ 
ever regiment or corps they may be. Any one 
found committing the slightest depredation, 
killing pigs or poultry, or trespassing on the 
property of the inhabitants, will be reported to 
head-quarters, and the least that will be done 
to them will be to send them to the Alexandria 
jail. It is again ordered, that no one shall 
arrest, or attempt to arrest, any citizen not in 
arms at the time, or search or attempt to 
search any house, or even to enter the same 
without permission. The troops must behave 
themselves with as much forbearance and pro¬ 
priety as if they were at their own homes. 
They are here to fight the enemies of the coun¬ 
try, not to judge and punish the unarmed and 
defenceless, * however guilty they may be. 







6 


REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


'When necessary, that will be done by the prop¬ 
er person. 

“By command of Gen. McDowell: 

“James B. Fey, Assistant Adjutant-General.” 

The chimney stacks, being of brick, are the 
sole remains of the few good houses in the vil¬ 
lage. Here our driver made a mistake, which 
was the rather persisted in, that a colored chat¬ 
tel informed us we could get to Centreville by 
the route Ave wero pursuing, instead of turning 
back to Germantown, as we should have done. 
Centreville was still seven miles ahead. The 
guns sounded, however, heavily from the val¬ 
leys. Rising above the forest tops appeared 
the blue masses of the Alleghanies, and we 
knew Manassas was somewhere on an outlying 
open of the ridges, which reminded me in color 
and form of the hills around the valley of Baidar. 
A Virginian who came out of a cottage, and 
who was assuredly no descendant of Madame 
Esmond, told us that we were “ going wrong 
right away.” There was, he admitted, a by¬ 
road somewhere to the left front, but people 
who had tried its depths had returned to Ger¬ 
mantown with the conviction that it led to any 
place but Centreville. Our driver, however, 
wished to try “ if there were no Seseshers 
about ? ” “ What did you say ? ” quoth the Vir¬ 
ginian. “ I want to know if there are any Se¬ 
cessionists there.” “ Secessionists! ” (in a vio¬ 
lent surprise, as if he had heard of them for 
the first time in his life.) “Ho, Sir-ee, Seces¬ 
sionists indeed! ” And all this time Beaure¬ 
gard and Lee were pounding away on our left 
front, some six or seven miles off. The horses 
retraced their steps, the colored youth who 
bestrode my charger complaining that the mys¬ 
terious arrangement which condemns his race 
to slavery was very much abraded by the action 
of that spirited quadruped, combined, or rather 
at variance with the callosities of the English 
saddle. From Germantown, onward by the 
right road, there was nothing very remarka¬ 
ble. At one place a group of soldiers were 
buying “ Secession money ” from some negroes, 
who looked as if they could afford to part with 
it as cheaply as men do who are dealing with 
other people’s property. Buggies and wagons 
(Anglic^, carriages) with cargoes of senators, 
were overtaken. The store cars became more 
numerous. At last Centreville appeared in 
sight—a few houses on our front, beyond which 
rose a bald hill—the slopes covered with biv¬ 
ouac huts, commissariat carts and horses, and 
the top crested with spectators of the fight. 
The road on each side was full of traces of 
Confederate camps; the houses were now all 
occupied by Federalists. In the rear of the hill 
was a strong body of infantry—two regiments 
of foreigners, mostly Germans, with a battery 
of light artillery. Our buggy was driven up to 
the top of the hill. The colored boy was de¬ 
spatched to the village to look for a place to 
shelter the horses while they were taking a 
much required feed, and to procure, if possible, 


a meal for himself and the driver. On the hill 
there, were carriages and vehicles drawn up as 
if they were attending a small country race. 
They were afterwards engaged in a race of 
another kind. In one was a lady with an 
opera-glass; in and around and on others were 
legislators and politicians. There were also a 
few civilians on horseback, and on the slope of 
the hill a regiment had stacked arms, and w r as 
engaged in looking at and commenting on the 
battle below. The landscape in front was open 
to the sight as far as the ranges of the Alle¬ 
ghanies, which swept round from the right in 
blue mounds, the color of which softened into 
violet in the distance. On the left the view 
was circumscribed by a wood, which receded 
along the side of the hill on which we stood to 
the plain below. Between the base of the hill, 
which rose about 150 feet above the general 
level of the country, and the foot,of the lowest 
and nearest elevation of the opposite Allegha¬ 
nies, extended about five miles, as well as I 
could judge, of a densely wooded country, dot¬ 
ted at intervals with green fields and patches 
of cleared lands. It was marked by easy longi¬ 
tudinal undulations, indicated by the form of 
the forests which clothed them, and between 
two of the more considerable ran small streams, 
or “ runs,” as they are denominated, from the 
right to the left. Close at hand a narrow road 
descended the hill, went straight into the for¬ 
est, where it was visible now and then among 
the trees in cream-colored patches. This road 
was filled with commissariat wagons, the white 
tops of which were visible for two miles in our 
front. 

On our left front a gap in the lowest chain 
of the hills showed the gap of Manassas, and to 
the left and nearer to me lay the “ Junction ” 
of the same name, where the Alexandria Railway 
unites with the rail from the west of Virginia, 
and continues the route by rails of various de¬ 
nominations to Richmond. The scene was so 
peaceful, a man might well doubt the evidence 
of one’s sense that a great contest was being 
played out below in bloodshed, or imagine, as 
Mr. Seward sometimes does, that it was a delu¬ 
sion when he wakes in the morning and finds 
there is civil war upon him. But the cannon 
spoke out loudly from the green bushes, and the 
plains below "were mottled, so to speak, by puffs 
of smoke and by white rings from bursting shells 
and capricious howitzers. It was no review 
that was going on beneath us. The shells gave 
proof enough of that, though the rush of the 
shot could not be heard at the distance. Clouds 
of dust came up in regular lines through the 
tree-tops where infantry were acting, and v' w 
and then their wavering mists of light- jiue 
smoko curled up, and the splutter of musketry 
broke through the booming of the guns. With 
the glass I could detect, now and then, the flash 
of arms through the dust-clouds in the open, 
but no one could tell to which side the troops 
who were moving belonged, and I could only 
judge from the smoke whether the guns were 





DOCUMENTS. 


7 


fired toward or away from the hill. It wag 
evident that the dust in the distance on our 
right extended beyond that which rose from 
the Federalists. The view toward the left, as 
I have said, was interrupted, but the firing was 
rather more heavy there than on the front or 
right flank, and a glade was pointed out in the 
forest as the beginning of Bull or Poole’s Run, 
on the other side of which the Confederates 
were hid in force, though they had not made 
any specific reply to the shells thrown into 
their cover early in the morning. There seemed 
to be a continuous line, which was held by 
the enemy, from which came steady solid firing 
against what might be supposed to be heads of 
columns stationed at various points, or advanc¬ 
ing against them. It was necessary to feed the 
horses and give them some rest after a hot 
drive of some 26 or 27 miles, or I would have 
proceeded at once to the front. As I was 
watching the faces of the Senators and Con¬ 
gressmen, I thought I had heard or read of 
such a scene as this—but there was much more 
to come. The soldiers, who followed each shot 
with remarks in English or German, were not 
as eager as men generally are in watching a 
fight. Once, as a cloud of thick smoke ascend¬ 
ed from the trees, a man shouted out, “ That’s 
good ; we’ve taken another battery : there goes 
the magazine.” But it looked like, and I be¬ 
lieve was, the explosion of a caisson. In the 
midst of our little reconnoissance, Mr. Vize- 
telly, who has been living, and indeed march¬ 
ing, with one of the regiments as artist of The 
Illustrated London News , came up and told us 
the action had been commenced in splendid 
style by the Federalists, who had advanced 
steadily, driving the Confederates before them 
—a part of the plan, as I firmly believe, to 
bring them under the range of their guns. He 
believed the advantages on the Federal side 
were decided, though won with hard fighting, 
and he had just come up to Centreville to look 
after something to eat and drink, and to pro¬ 
cure little necessaries, in case of need, for his 
comrades. His walk very probably saved his 
life. Having seen all that could be discerned 
through our glasses, my friend and myself had 
made a feast on our sandwiches in the shade 
of the buggy; my horse was eating and rest¬ 
ing, and I was forced to give him half an hour 
or more before I mounted, and meantime tried 
to make out the plan of battle, but all was ob¬ 
scure and dark. Suddenly up rode an officer, 
with a crowd of soldiers after him, from the 
village. “We’ve whipped them on all points! ” 
he shouted. “ We’ve taken their batteries, and 
they’re all retreating! ” Such an uproar as 
followed! The spectators and men cheered 
again and again, amid cries of “ Bravo! ” 
“ Bully for us ! ” “ Didn’t I tell you so ? ” and 
guttural “ hochs ” from the Deutschland folk, 
and loud “ hurroors” from the Irish. Soon 
afterward my horse was brought up to the hill, 
and my friend and the gentleman I have al¬ 
ready mentioned set out to walk toward the 


front—the latter to rejoin his regiment, if pos¬ 
sible, the former to get a closer view of the 
proceedings. As I turned down into the nar¬ 
row road or lane already mentioned, there was 
a forward movement amoug the large four- 
wheeled tilt wagons, which raised a good deal 
of dust. My attention was particularly called 
to this by the occurrence of a few minutes 
afterward. I had met my friends on the road, 
and after a few words, rode forward at a long 
trot as well as I could past the wagons and 
through the dust, when suddenly there arose a 
tumult in front of me at a small bridge across 
the road, and then I perceived the drivers of a 
set of wagons with the horses turned toward 
me, who were endeavoring to force their way 
against the stream of vehicles setting in the 
other direction. By the side of the new set of 
wagons there were a number of commissariat 
men and soldiers, whom at first sight I took to 
be the baggage guard. They looked excited 
and alarmed, and were running by the side of 
the horses—in front the dust quite obscured 
the view. At the bridge the currents met in 
wild disorder. “ Turn back! Retreat! ” shout¬ 
ed the men from the front. “ We’re whipped! 
we’re whipped ! ” They cursed, and tugged at 
the horses’ heads, and struggled with frenzy to 
get past. Running by mo on foot was a man 
with the shoulder-straps of an officer. “ Pray, 
what is the matter, sir?” “It means we’re 
pretty badly whipped, and that’s a fact,” he 
blurted out in puffs, and continued his career. 
I observed that he carried no sword. The 
teamsters of the advancing wagons now caught 
up the cry. “ Turn back—turn your horses! ” 
was the shout up the whole line, and, backing, 
plunging, rearing, and kicking, the horses which 
had been proceeding down the road, reversed 
front and went off toward Centreville. Those 
behind them went madly rushing on, the driv¬ 
ers being quite indifferent whether glory or 
disgrace led the way, provided they could find 
it. In the midst of this extraordinary specta¬ 
cle, an officer, escorted by some dragoons, rode 
through the ruck with a light cart in charge. 
Another officer on foot, with his sword under 
his arm, ran up against me. “ What is all this 
about ? ” “ Why, we’re pretty badly whipped. 

We’re all in retreat. There’s General Tyler 
there, badly wounded.” And on he ran. There 
came yet another, who said, “ We’re beaten on 
all points. The whole army is in retreat.” 
Still there was no flight of troops, no retreat 
of an army, no reason for all this precipitation. 
True, there were many men in uniform flying 
toward the rear, but it did not appear as if 
they were beyond the proportions of a large 
baggage escort. I got my hdrse up into the 
field out of the road, and went on rapidly tow¬ 
ards the front. Soon I met soldiers, who were 
coming through the corn, mostly without arms; 
and presently I saw firelocks, cooking-tins, 
knapsacks, and greatcoats on the ground, and 
observed that the confusion and speed of the 
baggage carts became greater, and that many 








\ 


8 REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


of them were crowded with men, or were fol¬ 
lowed by others, who clung to them. The 
ambulances were crowded with soldiers, but it 
did not look as if there were many wounded. 
Negro servants on led horses dashed frantically 
past; men in uniform, whom it were a dis¬ 
grace to the profession of arms to call “ soldiers,” 
swarmed by on mules, chargers, and even 
draught horses, which had been cut out of 
carts or wagons, and went on with harness 
clinging to their heels, as frightened as their 
riders. Men literally screamed with rage and 
fright when their way was blocked up. On I 
rode, asking all, “What is all this about?” and 
now and then, but rarely, receiving the an¬ 
swer, “We're whipped; ” or, “ We’re repulsed.” 
Faces black and dusty, tongues out in the heat, 
eyes staring—it was a most wonderful sight. 
On they came, like him, 

“Who, having once turned round, goes on, 

And turns no more his head, 

For he knoweth that a fearful fiend 
Doth close behind him tread.” 

But where was the fiend ? I looked in vain. 
There was, indeed, some cannonading in front 
of me and in their rear, but still the firing was 
comparatively distant, and the runaways were 
far out of range. As I advanced, the number 
of carts diminished, but the mounted men in¬ 
creased, and the column of fugitives became 
denser. A few buggies and light wagons filled 
with men, whose faces would have made up 
“ a great Leporello” in the ghost scene, tried 
to pierce the rear of the mass of carts, which 
were now solidified and moving on like a gla¬ 
cier. I crossed a small ditch by the roadside, 
got out on the road to escape some snake fences, 
and, looking before me, saw there was still a 
crowd of men in uniforms coming along. The 
road was strewn with articles of clothing— 
firelocks, waist-belts, cartouch-boxes, caps, 
greatcoats, mess-tins, musical instruments, 
cartridges, bayonets and sheaths, swords and 
pistols—even biscuits, water-bottles, and pieces 
of meat. Passing a white house by the road¬ 
side, I saw, for the first time, a body of infan¬ 
try with sloped arms marching regularly and 
rapidly towards me. Their faces were not 
blackened by powder, and it was evident they 
had not been engaged. In reply to a question, 
a non-commissioned officer told me in broken 
English, “ "We fell back to our lines. The at¬ 
tack did not quite succeed.” This was assuring 
to one who had come through such a scene as 
I had been witnessing. I had ridden, I sup¬ 
pose, about three or three-and-a-half miles 
from the hill, though it is not possible to be 
sure of the distance ; when, having passed the 
white house, I came out on an open piece of 
ground, beyond and circling which was forest. 
Two field-pieces were unlimbered and guarding 
the road; the panting and jaded horses in the 
rear looked as though they had been hard 
worked, and the gunners and drivers looked 
worn and dejected. Dropping shots sounded 
close in front through the woods; but the guns 


on the left no longer maintained their fire. I 
was just about to ask one of the men for a light, 
when a sputtering fire on my right attracted 
my attention, and out of the forest or along the 
road rushed a number of men. The gunners 
seized the trail of the nearest piece to wheel it 
round upon them; others made for the tum¬ 
brils and horses as if to fly, when a shout was 
raised, “ Don’t fire; they’re our own men 
and in a few minutes on came pell-mell a whole 
regiment in disorder. I rode across one, and 
stopped him. “ We’re pursued by cavalry,” 
he gasped, “ they’ve cut us all to pieces.” As 
he spoke, a shell burst over the column; an¬ 
other dropped on the road, and out streamed 
another column of men, keeping together with 
their arms, and closing up the stragglers of the 
first regiment. I turned, and to my surprise 
saw the artillerymen had gone off, leaving one 
gun standing by itself. They had retreated 
with their horses. While we were on the hill, 
I had observed and pointed out to my compan¬ 
ions a cloud of dust which rose through the 
trees on our right front. In my present posi¬ 
tion that place must have been on the right 
rear, and it occurred to me that after all there 
really might be a body of cavalry in that direc¬ 
tion ; but Murat himself would not have charg¬ 
ed these wagons in that deep, well-fenced lane. 
If the dust came, as I believe it did, from field- 
artillery, that would be a different matter. Any 
way it was now well established that the re¬ 
treat had really commenced, though I saw but 
few wounded men, and the regiments which 
were falling back had not suffered much loss. 
No one seemed to know any thing for cer¬ 
tain. Even the cavalry charge was a rumor. 
Several officers said they had carried guns and 
lines, but then they drifted into the nonsense 
which one reads and hears everywhere about 
“ masked batteries.” One or two talked more 
sensibly about the strong positions of the ene¬ 
my, the fatigue of their men, the want of a re¬ 
serve, severe losses, and the bad conduct of 
certain regiments. Not one spoke as if he 
thought of retiring beyond Centreville. The 
clouds of dust rising above the woods marked 
the retreat of the whole army, and the crowds 
of fugitives continued to steal away along the 
road. The sun was declining, and some thirty 
miles yet remained to be accomplished ere I 
could hope to gain the shelter of Washington. 
No one knew whither any corps or regiment 
was marching, but there were rumors of all 
kinds—“ The G9th are cut to pieces,” “ The Fire 
Zouaves are destroyed,” and so on. Presently 
a tremor ran through the men by whom I was 
riding, as the sharp reports of some field-pieces 
rattled through the wood close at hand. A 
sort of subdued roar, like the voice of distant 
breakers, rose in front of us, and the soldiers, 
who were, I think, Germans, broke into a 
double, looking now and then over their should¬ 
ers. There was no choice for me but to resign 
any further researches. The mail from Wash¬ 
ington for the Wednesday steamer at Boston 





DOCUMENTS. 


9 


leaves at 2|- on Monday, and so I put my horse 
into a trot, keeping in the fields alongside the 
roads as much as I could, to avoid the fugitives, 
till I came once more on the rear of the bag¬ 
gage and store carts, and the pressure of the 
crowd, who, conscious of the aid which the 
vehicles would afford them against a cavalry 
charge, and fearful, nevertheless, of their prox¬ 
imity, clamored and shouted like madmen as 
they ran. The road was now literally covered 
with baggage. It seemed to me as if the men 
inside were throwing the things out purposely. 
“ Stop,” cried I to the driver of one of the carts, 
“ every thing is falling out.” “-you,” shout¬ 

ed a fellow inside, “if you stop him, I’ll blow 
your brains out.” My attempts to save Uncle 
Sam’s property were then and there discon¬ 
tinued. 

On approaching Centreville, a body of Ger¬ 
man infantry of the reserve came marching 
down, and stemmed the current in some de¬ 
gree ; they were followed by a brigade of guns 
and another battalion of fresh troops. I turned 
up on the hill half a mile beyond. The vehi¬ 
cles had all left but two—my buggy was gone. 
A battery of field-guns was in position where 
we had been standing. The men looked well. 
As yet there was nothing to indicate more than 
a retreat, and some ill-behavior among the 
wagoners and the riff-raff of different regi¬ 
ments. Centreville was not a bad position 
properly occupied, and I saw no reason why it 
should not be held if it was meant to renew 
the attack, nor any reason why the attack 
should not be renewed, if there had been any 
why it should have been made. I swept the 
field once more. The clouds of dust were 
denser and nearer. That was all. There was 
no firing—no musketry. I turned my horse’s 
head and rode away through the village, and 
after I got out upon the road the same confu¬ 
sion seemed to prevail. Suddenly the guns on 
the hill opened, and at the same time came the 
thuds of artillery from the wood on the right 
rear. The stampede then became general. 
What occurred at the hill I cannot say, but all 
the road from Centreville for miles presented 
such a sight as can only be witnessed in the 
track of the runaways of an utterly demoralized 
army. Drivers flogged, lashed, spurred, and 
beat their horses, or leaped down and aban¬ 
doned their teams, and ran by the side of the 
road ; mounted men, servants, and men in uni¬ 
form, vehicles of all sorts, commissariat wag¬ 
ons, thronged the narrow ways. At every shot 
a convulsion, as it were, seized upon the mor¬ 
bid mass of bones, sinew, wood, and iron, and 
thrilled through it, giving new energy and action 
to its desperate efforts to get free from itself. 
Again the cry of “Cavalry” arose. “What 
are you afraid of? ” said I to a man who was 
running beside me. “ I’m not afraid of you! ” 
replied the ruffian, levelling his piece at me, 
and pulling the trigger. It was not loaded, or 
the cap was not on, for the gun did not go off. 
I was unarmed, and I did go off as fast I could, 


resolved to keep my own counsel for the second 
time that day. And so the flight went on. At 
one time a whole mass of infantry, with fixed 
bayonets, ran down the bank of the road, and 
some falling as they ran, must have killed and 
wounded those among whom they fell. As I 
knew the road would soon become impassable 
or blocked up, I put my horse to a gallop and 
passed on toward the front. But mounted men 
still rode faster, shouting out, “ Cavalry are 
coming.” Again I ventured to speak to some 
officers whom I overtook, and said, “ If these 
runaways are not stopped, the whole of the 
posts and pickets in Washington will fly 
also! ” One of them, without saying a word, 
spurred his horse and dashed on in front. I do 
not know whether he ordered the movement 
or not, but the van of the fugitives was now 
suddenly checked, and, pressing on through the 
wood at the roadside, I saw a regiment of in¬ 
fantry blocking up the way, with their front 
towards Centreville. A musket was levelled 
at my head as I pushed to the front—“ Stop, 
or I’ll fire.” * At the same time the officers 

♦As a commentary on the picture hero presented, wo 
quoto part of an article in the Knickerbocker Magazine 
from an eye-witness of this part of the retreat, who met 
Mr. Russell at the very head of the stampede. — Editor. 

We pushed on toward the field. Vehicles still passed 
moderately , but their occupants appeared unconscious of 
disaster or of haste. The first indication of disturbed 
nerves met us in the shape of a soldier, musketless and 
coatless, clinging to the bare back of a great bony, wagon- 
horse— sans reins, sans every thing. Man and beast came 
panting along, each looking exhausted, and just as they 

ass us, the horse tumbles down helpless in the road, and 

is rider tumbles off and hobbles away, leaving the horso 
to his own care and his own reflections. Still we pushed 
on. 

[Several visitors from the field, up to this time, had re¬ 
ported a complete victory of the Union troops.] 

About half-past four, possibly nearer five, Ccntrevillo 
was still (as it proved) a mile or so ahead of us. Wo 
reached the top of a moderate rise in the road, and as wo 
plodded on down its slope, I turned a glance back along 
the road wo had passed; a thousand bayonets were gleam¬ 
ing in the sunlight, and a full fresh regiment were over 
taking us in double-quick step, having come up (as I soon 
after learned) from Vionna. They reached the top of the 
hill just as we began to pick our way across the brook 
which flooded the road in the little valley below. At this 
momont, looking up the ascent ahead of us, toward the 
battle, we saw army wagons, private vehicles, and somo 
six or eight soldiers on horseback, rushing dowm the hill 
in front of us in exciting confusion, and a thick cloud of 
dust. The equestrian soldiers, it could be seen at a glance, 
were only impromptu horsemen, and their steeds were all 
unused to this melting mode, most of them being bare¬ 
backed. Their riders appeared to be in haste, for somo 
reason best known to themselves. Among them, and 
rather leading the van, was a solitary horseman of differ¬ 
ent aspect: figure somewhat stout, face round and broad, 
gentlemanly in aspect, but somewhat flushed and impa¬ 
tient, not to say anxious, in expression. Under a broad- 
brimmed hat a silk handkerchief screened his neck like a 
Havelock. lie rode a fine horse, still in good condition, 
and his motto seemed to be “ on-ward”—whether in per¬ 
sonal alarm or not, it would be impertinent to say. His 
identity was apparent at a glance. As his horse reached 
the spot where we “five” stood together, thus suddenly 
headed off by the stampede, the regiment behind us had 
reached the foot of the hill, and the colonel, a large and 
resolute-looking man, had dashed his horse ahead of his 
men, until he was face to face with the stampeders. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” shouted the colonel in a 
tone that “ meant something.” “ Halt 1 ” (to his men.) 
“ Form across the road. Stop every one of them !” Then 
turning to the white-faced soldiers from the field, and bran¬ 
dishing his sword, “ Back 1 back I the whole of ye 1 Back i 







io 


REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


were shouting out, “ Don’t let a soul pass.” I 
addressed one of them, and said, “ Sir, I am a 
British subject. I am not, I assure you, run¬ 
ning away. I have done my best to stop this 
disgraceful rout, (as I had,) and have been tell¬ 
ing them there are no cavalry within miles of 
them.” “ I can’t let you pass, sir.” I bethought 
me of Gen. Scott’s pass. The adjutant read it, 
and the word was given along the line, “ Let 
that man pass! ” and so I rode through, uncer¬ 
tain if I could now gain the Long Bridge in time 
to pass over without the countersign. It was 
about this time I met a cart by the roadside 
surrounded by a group of soldiers, some of 
whom had “ 69 ” on their caps. The owner, 
as I took him to be, was in great distress, and 
cried out as I passed, “ Can you tell me, sir, 
where the 69th are ? These men say they are 
cut to pieces.” “ I can’t tell you.” “ I’m in 
charge of the mails, sir, and I will deliver them 

I say,” rind their horses in an instant are making a reverse 
movement up the hill, while the army wagons stand in 
statu quo: the thousand muskets of the regiment, in 
obedience rather to the action than to the word of the 
colonel, being all pointed at the group in front, in the 
midst of which we stand. All this and much more passed 
in much less time than it takes to tell it. 

“ But, sir, if you will look at this paper,” thus spake our 
distinguished visitor in the advance to the determined and 
now excited colonel, “ you will see that I am a civilian, a 
spectator merely, and that this is a special pass,” (here I 
half-imagined a doubt of the character of the regiment 
flashed in for a second,) “ a pass from General Scott.” 

The manner and the tone indicated that the speaker and 
his errand were entitled to attention. 

“ Pass this man up,” shouted tho colonel somewhat 
bluntly and impatient of delay ; and on galloped tho repre¬ 
sentative of the Thunderer toward Washington. 

************ 

Now, the art of bragging and the habit of exaggeration 
are vices to which all we Americans are but too much ad¬ 
dicted. But if I say that my friend T-and myself 

stood in the midst of this me.ee much more impressed with 
its ludicrous picturesqueuess than with any idea of per¬ 
sonal danger, my friend at least would agree that this was 
the simple, truth. The brief parley of “ Our Own Corre¬ 
spondent” suggested merely the thought that it was a pity 
such a stranger should be annoyed by such a crowd ; I’d 
better say : “ Colonel, this is Mr. Russell of the London 
Times; pray don’t detain him.” However, this all 
passed in a twinkling. Our two soldier-friends and the 
surgeon had pushed on between the wagons toward the 
field ; the distant firing had ceased ; the wagons quietly 
stood still; so T-and I passed up through the regi¬ 

ment, which they told us was the First or Second New 
Jersey, Col. Montgomery, from the camp at Vienna ; and 
we sat down comfortably near a house at the top of the 
hill and waited to see “ what next ? ” In less than twenty 
minutes the road was cleared and regulated ; the army 
wagons halted , still in line, on one side of the road; the 
civilians were permitted to drive on as fast as they pleased 
toward Washington ; the regiment deployed into a field 
on the opposite hill, and formed in line of battle command¬ 
ing the road; a detachment was sent on to “clear the 
track” toward Centreville ; and presently the regiment 
itself marched up the road in the direction of the field of 
conflict. It was now about half-pasture. 

If we two were not “ cowards on instinct,” we might still 
be indifferent to danger through mere ignorance. ‘"This is 
intended to be a simple and truthful narrative only of 
what we saw and did, not a philosophical analysis or an 
imaginative dissertation. The character, cause, extent, 
and duration of that strange panic have already become 
an historical problem. Therefore, I specially aim to avoid 
all inferences, guesses, and generalities, and to state with 
.entire simplicity just what was done and said where we 
were. Of what passed on the battle-field, or anywhere 
else, this witness cannot testify : he can only tell, tvith 
reasonable accuracy, what passed before his eyes, or re¬ 
peat what he heard directly from those who had just come 
singly from the fight or the panic; so much will go for 
what it is worth, and no ipore. The separate sketches 
from all the different points of view are needed for a com- 


if I die for it. You are a gentleman and I can 
depend on your word. Is it safe for me to go 
on ? ” Not knowing the extent of the debacle, 
I assured him it was, and asked the men of the 
regiment how they happened to be there. 
“ Shure, the Colonel himself told us to go off 
every man on his own hook, and to fly for our 
lives! ” replied one of them. The mail agent, 
who told me he was an Englishman, started 
the cart again. I sincerely hope no bad result 
to himself or his charge followed my advice; 
I reached Fairfax Court-House; the people, 
black and white, with anxious faces, were at 
the doors, and the infantry were under arms. 
I was besieged with questions, though hundreds 
of fugitives had passed through before me. At 
one house I stopped to ask for water for my 
horse; the owner sent his servant for it cheer¬ 
fully, the very house where we had in vain 
asked for something to eat in the forenoon. 

plete picture, or for a conclusive answer to the question: 
“ Did all our army run away ? ” 

For us, two individuals who had not seen the battle or 
the first of the panic, but only this tail-end of it, no dis¬ 
cussion of the matter at the moment was thought of. We 
didn’t ask each other, or anybody else, whether it was 
safe to stay there, or to go near the main army. But if 
the question had been asked, our reply, merely echoing 
our thoughts at the moment, would have been thus : — 

“ We have lost the day ; our army, or a part of it, after 
a sturdy fight of nine hours against the great edds of a 
superior force, strongly intrenched behind masked bat¬ 
teries, and after an actual victory, have fallen back at the 
last moment, and a part of one wing, with the wagons and 
outsiders, have started from the field in a sudden and un¬ 
accountable panic. But so long as we still have forty 
thousand men between us and the enemy, more than half 
of them fresh, in reserve, at Centreville ; so long ns this, 
the only main road Potomac-wise from the field, is now 
quiet ai d clear, and ‘order reigns’ at Centreville, where 
our main body will rest; what is the use of being in a 
hurry? Let us rest awhile here, and then take our timo 
and go on either South or North, as the appearance of 
things may warrant.” Briefly and distinctly, no worse 
view of the matter was indicated by any thing we saw or 
heard while waiting two hours in that very spot in the 
road where the panic was first stopped, [and two hours 
after Mr. Russell had galloped on to write the icorst ac¬ 
count of the disorder.] 

The writer of tho above slept at Fairfax Court-IIouso 
long after Mr. Russell w T as safe in Washington. As late 
as 11 p. m., the straggling soldiers from the field 
were stopped and turned back by platoons of the reserve 
at Fairfax ; and this was done as late as 7 A. m. at Alex¬ 
andria. In corroboration of the fact that all alarm and dis¬ 
order had been checked immediately after Mr. Russell’s 
hasty retreat, we quote the following from Mr. H. H. Til¬ 
ley, of Bristol, R. I., dated at Washington, July 24 . 

“ Our two companions, Burnham and Young, after push¬ 
ing ahead a little way on the track, repented of their temer¬ 
ity, and retraced their steps, as we did, to the station, and 
then took the road, also, to Fairfax Court-House ; but on 
reaching the road leading to Centreville, they turned into 
that, and by thus cutting off tho angle that we made, they 
were enabled to pass through that place, and even get 
quite near to the battle-field—full as near, in fact, as I 
think we should have cared to, for Burnham says that 
after they attacked the hospital, and the retreat com¬ 
menced, they heard a cannon-ball whistle over their heads, 
which, I infer, contributed in a slight degree to an accelera¬ 
tion of their movements. They say they were at the place 
in the road when Colonel Montgomery (as I see it was by 
the papers) made that famous ‘halt 1 ’ of the light brigade, 
(Russell and Company,) soon after it occurred, and they 
stopped there , procuring tea and a lodging at a house near 
by. They started on their return tramp at about twelve, 
[eight hours after Mr. Russell’s retreat,] and must have been 
only a little way behind us, all the way—reaching here in 
less than an hour after we did.” ( 









DOCUMENTS. 


11 


“ There's a fright among them,” I observed, in 
reply to his question respecting the commissa¬ 
riat drivers. “ They’re afraid of the enemy’s 
cavalry.” “ Are you an American? ” said the 
man. “ No, I am not.” “ Well, then,” he said, 

“ there will be cavalry on them soon enough. 
There’s 20,000 of the best horsemen in the 
world in Virginia! ” Washington was still 18 
miles away. The road was rough and uncer¬ 
tain, and again my poor steed was under way, 
but it was of no use trying to outstrip the run¬ 
aways. Once or twice I imagined I heard guns 
in the rear, but I could not be sure of it in con¬ 
sequence of the roar of the flight behind me. It 
was most surprising to see how far the foot 
soldiers had contrived to get on in advance. 
After sunset the moon rose, and amid other 
acquaintances, I jogged alongside an officer 
who was in charge of Col. Hunter, the com¬ 
mander of a brigade, I believe, who was shot 
through the neck, and was inside a cart, es¬ 
corted by a few troopers. This officer was, as 
I understood, the major or second in command 
of Col. Hunter’s regiment, yet he had consid¬ 
ered it right to take charge of his chief, and to 
leave his battalion. He said they had driven 
back the enemy with ease, but had not been sup¬ 
ported, and blamed—as bad officers and good 
ones will do—the conduct of the General: “ So 
mean a fight I never saw.” I was reminded of a 
Crimean General, who made us all merry by say¬ 
ing, after the first bombardment, “ In the whole 
course of my experience I never saw a siege con¬ 
ducted on such principles as these.” Our friend j 
had been without food, but not, I suspect, 
without drink—and that, we know, affects 
empty stomachs very much—since two o’clock 
that morning. Now, what is to be thought of 
an officer—gallant, he may be, as steel—who 
says, as I heal’d this gentleman say to a picket 
who asked him how the day went in front, 
“Well, we’ve been licked into a cocked hat; 
knocked to-.” This was his cry to team¬ 

sters escorts, convoys, the officers and men on 
guard and detachment, while I, ignorant of the 
disaster behind, tried to mollify the effect of 
the news by adding, “ Oh! it’s a drawn battle. 
The troops are reoccupying the position from 
which they started in the morning.” Perhaps 
he knew his troops better than I did. It was 
a strange ride, through a country now still as 
death, the white road shining like a river in 
the moonlight, the trees black as ebony in the 
shade; now and then a figure flitting by into 
the forest or across the road—frightened friend 
or lurking foe, who could say? Then the 
anxious pickets and sentries all asking, “What’s 
the news?” and evidently prepared for any 
amount of loss. Twice or thrice we lost our 
way, or our certainty about it, and shouted at 
isolated houses, and received no reply, except 
from angry watch-dogs. Then we were set 
right as we approached Washington, by team¬ 
sters. For an hour, however, we seemed to be 
travelling along a road which, in all its points, 
far and near, was “twelve miles from the 


Long Bridge.” Up hills, down into valleys, 
with the silent grim woods forever by our 
sides. Now and then, in the profound gloom, 
broken only by a spark from the horse’s hoof, 
came a dull but familiar sound like the shut¬ 
ting of a distant door. As I approached Wash¬ 
ington, having left the Colonel and his escort 
at some seven miles on the south side of the 
Long Bridge, I found the grand guards, pickets’ 
posts, and individual sentries burning for news, 
and the word used to pass along, “ What does 
that man say, Jack ? ” “ Begorra, he tells me 

we’re not bet at all—only retraiting to the 
ould lines for convaniency of fighting to-mor¬ 
row again. Oh, that’s illigant! ” On getting 
to the tete de pont , however, the countersign 
was demanded; of course, I had not got it. 
But the officer passed me through on the pro¬ 
duction of Gen. Scott’s safeguard. The lights 
of the city were in sight; and reflected by the 
waters of the Potomac, just glistened by the 
clouded moon, shone the gay lamps of the 
White House, where the President was prob¬ 
ably entertaining some friends. In silence I 
passed over the Long Bridge. Some few hours 
later it quivered under the steps of a rabble of 
unarmed men. At the Washington end a regi¬ 
ment with piled arms were waiting to cross 
over into Virginia, singing and cheering. Be¬ 
fore the morning they received orders, I be¬ 
lieve, to assist in keeping Maryland quiet. For 
the hundredth time I repeated the cautious ac¬ 
count, which to the best of my knowledge was 
; true. There were men, women, and soldiers 
to hear it. The clocks had just struck Up. m. 
as I passed Willard’s. The pavement in front 
of the hall was crowded. The rumors of de¬ 
feat had come in, but few of the many who 
had been fed upon lies and the reports of com¬ 
plete victory which prevailed could credit the 
intelligence. Seven hours had not elapsed be¬ 
fore the streets told the story. The “ Grand 
Army of the North,” as it was called, had rep¬ 
resentatives in every thoroughfare, without 
arms, orders, or officers, standing out in the 
drenching rain. When all these most unac¬ 
countable phenomena were occurring, I was 
fast asleep, but I could scarce credit my in¬ 
formant in the morning, when he told me that 
the Federalists, utterly routed, had fallen back 
upon Arlington to defend the capital, leaving 
nearly 5 batteries of artillery, 8,000 muskets, 
immense quantities of stores and baggage, and 
their wounded prisoners in the hands of the 
enemy! 

Let the American journals tell the story their 
own way. I have told mine as I know it. It 
has rained incessantly and heavily since early 
morning, and the country is quite unfit for 
operations; otherwise, if Mr. Davis desired to 
press his advantage, he might be now very 
close to Arlington Heights. He has already 
proved that he has a fair right to be considered 
the head of a “ belligerent power.” But, though 
the North may reel under the shock, I cannot 
think it will make her desist from the struggle, 






12 


REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


I 


unless it be speedily followed by blows more 
deadly even than the repulse from Manassas. 
There is much talk now (of “ masked batteries,” 
of course) of outflanking, and cavalry, and such 
matters. The truth seems to be that the men 
were overworked, kept out for 12 or 14 hours 
in the sun, exposed to a long-range fire, badly 
officered, and of deficient regimental organiza¬ 
tion. Then came a most difficult operation— 
to withdraw this army, so constituted, out of 
action, in face of an energetic enemy who had 
repulsed it. The retirement of the baggage, 
which was without adequate guards, and was 
in the hands of ignorant drivers, was misun¬ 
derstood, and created alarm, and that alarm 
became a panic, which became frantic on the 
appearance of the enemy and on the opening 
of their guns on the runaways. But the North 
will be all the more eager to retrieve this dis¬ 
aster, although it may divert her from the 


scheme, which has been suggested to her, of 
punishing England a little while longer. The 
exultation of the South can only be understood 
by those who may see it; and if the Federal 
Government perseveres in its design to make 
Union by force, it may prepare for a struggle 
the result of which will leave the Union very 
little to fight for. More of the “ battle” in my 
next. I pity the public across the water, but 
they must be the victims of hallucinations and 
myths it is out of my power to dispel or rectify 
just now. Having told so long a story, I can 
scarcely expect your readers to have patience, 
and go back upon the usual diary of events; 
but the records, such as they are, of this extra¬ 
ordinary repulse, must command attention. It 
is impossible to exaggerate their importance. 
No man can predict the results or pretend to 
guess at them. 





PASSAGES OF MR. RUSSELL’S LETTER, WITH COMMENTS. 

From tico witnesses (unknown to each other). The Record Statement was printed ten days before Mr. 

Russell's was received. 


Mr. Russell. 

“Drivers flogged, lashed, spurred 
their horses,” «fce., (.near Centreville). 


“ I saw a regiment of infantry block¬ 
ing up the way with their front towards 
Centreville. A musket was levelled at 
my head as I pushed to the front— 
1 Stop, or I’ll fire.’ At the same time 
the officers were shouting out, ‘ don’t 
let a soul pass.’ I addressed one of 
them and said, ‘ Sir, I am a British 
subject. I am not, I assure you, run¬ 
ning away. I have done my best to 
stop this disgraceful rout, (as I had,) 
and have been telling them there are 
no cavalry within miles of them.’ ‘ I 
can’t let you pass, sir.’ I bethought 
me of Gen. Scott’s pass. The adjutant 
read it, and the word was given along 
the line, ‘ Let that man pass,’—so I 
rode through. 

****** 

“ I reached Fairfax Court House ; 
the people, black and white, with anx¬ 
ious faces were at the doors, and the 
infantry were under arms. I was be¬ 
sieged with questions, though hundreds 
of fugitives had passed through before 
me! ! ! /” 


“ Once or twice [at Fairfax] I imag¬ 
ined I heai-d guns in the rear, but I 
could not be sure of it in consequence of 
the roar of the flight behind me! ! ! ! It 
was most surprising to see how far the 
foot soldiers had contrived to get on in 
advance! ! /” 

“ I jogged alongside an officer who 
was in charge of Col. Hunter [wound¬ 
ed], and who ‘considered it right to 
take charge of his chief, and save his 
battalion.’ ” 

“ The clocks had just struck 11 p. m. 
as I passed Willard’s. 

****** 

“ Let the American journals tell the 
story in their own way. I have told 
mine as I know it.” 


Editor of the Chicago Tribune. 

“ Jogging leisurely down the Wash¬ 
ington road, perhaps 10 minutes—cer¬ 
tainly not more—ahead of Mr. Russell, 
we saw nothing of the flogging, lash¬ 
ing, &c., &c., which he so graphically 
describes. 

“ A mile from Centroville we met 
that New Jersey regiment, a private of 
which Mr. Russell says threatened to 
shoot him if he did not halt. The 
officers were turning back a few fugi¬ 
tives, not a dozen in all that were on 
their way in , but recognized as a civil¬ 
ian, as the Times correspondent must 
have been, we passed to the rear un¬ 
challenged.” 


“ It is a small matter this, but it 
marks the accuracy of the man. Not 
a question was asked of Mr. Russell or 
of us [at this point the two parties were 
together], not a fugitive we dare affirm 
had passed that way ; the infantry, an¬ 
other N. Jersey regiment, if we are not 
mistaken [Michigan4th,— Ed.], were at 
their usuffi evening parade, supposing, 
no doubt, that their companions in 
arms had won a great victory.” 


“ It must have been surprising in¬ 
deed. From the moment of meeting 
the 1st N. Jersey regiment [as above], 
not a soldier, unless one of a baggage 
or a picket guard, did we see on the 
road—not one. We faced train after 
train going out with supplies, without 
guard, and without suspicion that the 
army was beaten.” 

“We saw no troopers and no officer. 
Hon. Isaac N. Arnold, of the House, 
was riding by the side of the vehicle, 
and he, a smooth-faced gentleman in the 
garb of a civilian, may have been mis¬ 
taken (by Mr. R.) for ‘ a doubtful man 
of war.’” 


Publisher of the Rebellion Record. 

“ Centreville was still a mile or 60 
ahead of us. * * * a full fresh reg¬ 
iment had overtaken us, and * * * 
[looking forward] we saw army wag¬ 
ons, private vehicles, and some 6 or 8 
soldiers on horseback rushing down, 
&c. * * * Among them and rather 
leading the van, was”—Mr. Russell. 

* * * u i p agg this man up” shout¬ 
ed the colonel, and on galloped the rep¬ 
resentative of the Thunderer [solitary 
and alone ] toward Washington. No 
musket was pointed at him any more 
than at any other in the crowd, and not 
a syllable was to be heard about his 
services in ‘ stopping the disgraceful 
rout,’ although the words actually 
used were heard distinctly—this wit¬ 
ness being within six feet of Mr. R.’s 
horse. The road was cleared and reg¬ 
ulated in 20 minutes.” 

[A party of five, viz. : two soldiers, 
one of whom was Mr. Greene of the 
— R. I. regiment, a R. I. surgeon, H. 
H. Tilley of the Navy Department, 
and G. P. Putnam of N. York, had 
walked from Fairfax Court House to 
the point above described, the road 
being quiet, and npt a single soldier ex¬ 
cept an officer on horseback having 
passed towards Washington. Mr. Rus¬ 
sell’s assertion is wholly unfounded.] 

[iVo soldiers whatever had preceded 
Mr. Russell, and not more than 300 
passed, on the road, up to 9 p. M.] 

“ We reached the pickets near the 
Court House about nine p. m. Here 
again returning soldiers were still stop¬ 
ped and turned back at this time, and 
as late, certainly, as ten o’clock, or six 
hours after the retreat began. Could 
a couple of platoons turn back a whole 
army ? ” 

[At Fairfax Court House] “ Senator 
Wade seemed to be intending a return 
to Centreville next morning.” * * * 
This was about eleven p. m.; “wagons 
still at rest; as many soldiers about 
the place as I had seen at noon—[Mich¬ 
igan 4th in reserve], here and there a 
poor fellow would come in from battle- 
ward inquiring for the hospital.” 

“ We were comfortably dressed [af¬ 
ter sleeping at the inn at Fairfax Court 
House] and in the road between 2 and 
3 o’clock [Monday morning]. Our 
room-mate from the Keystone State we 
left sound asleep, for we had no au¬ 
thority to disturb him.” 

“ Even at this time [half-past 6, Mon¬ 
day morning] only the wagons and 
wounded men were allowed to pass” 
[the pickets at Alexandria]. We had 
walked from near Centreville, slept 3 
hours at Fairfax, and on the road all 
night we had not seen 600 soldiers. 
This is verified by our companion, Mr. 
H. H. Tilley, of Bristol, R. I. 


REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


unless it be speedily followed by blows more 
deadly even than the repulse from Manassas. 
There is much talk now (of “ masked batteries,” 
of course) of outflanking, and cavalry, and such 
matters. The truth seems to be that the men 
were overworked, kept out for 12 or 14 hours 
in the sun, exposed to a long-range fire, badly 
officered, and of deficient regimental organiza¬ 
tion. Then came a most difficult operation— 
to withdraw this army, so constituted, out of 
action, in face of an energetic enemy who had 
repulsed it. The retirement of the baggage, 
which was without adequate guards, and was 
in the hands of ignorant drivers, was misun¬ 
derstood, and created alarm, and that alarm 
became a panic, which became frantic on the 
appearance of the enemy and on the opening 
of their guns on the runaways. But the North 
will be all the more eager to retrieve this dis¬ 
aster, although it may divert her from the 


scheme, which has been suggested to her, of 
punishing England a little while longer. The 
exultation of the South can only be understood 
by those who may see it; and if the Federal 
Government perseveres in its design to make 
Union by force, it may prepare for a struggle 
the result of which will leave the Union very 
little to fight for. More of the “ battle” in my 
next. I pity the public across the water, but 
they must be the victims of hallucinations and 
myths it is out of my power to dispel or rectify 
just now. Having told so long a story, I can 
scarcely expect your readers to have patience, 
and go back upon the usual diary of events; 
but the records, such as they are, of this extra¬ 
ordinary repulse, must command attention. It 
is impossible to exaggerate their importance. 
No man can predict the results or pretend to 
guess at them. 


Comments on Mr. Russell’s Letter . 


From the Chicago Tribune. 

Mr. Russell’s letter to the London Times , the 
greater part of which we transferred to our col¬ 
umns yesterday morning, is, in many respects, a 
remarkable paper. We enjoyed the privilege of 
riding from a point a couple of miles east of Cen- 
treville, to another point east of Fairfax Court 
House, with Mr. Russell, and when he tells what 
took place on that bit of road, we are competent 
judges of his truthfulness and fairness as a descrip¬ 
tive writer. We do not know and do not care 
what he saw, or says he saw, of the fight and the 
flight, before we found him ; but from the errors 
and misstatements in that portion of his narrative 
with which we are immediately concerned, we 
should be justified in believing that he was not at 
the battle at all, and that the materials for his let¬ 
ter were gathered from some Fire Zouave or a pri¬ 
vate of the Ohio Second, who left, terror stricken, 
in the early part of the fray, and carried the fatal 
news of the rout and the race to the credulous rear. 
We left Centreville without knowing that a repulse 
had been felt, or that a retreat to that point had 
been ordered. Jogging leisurely down the Wash¬ 
ington road, perhaps ten minutes—certainly not 
more—ahead of Mr. Russell, we saw nothing of the 
flogging, lashing, spurring, beating, and abandoning 
that he so graphically describes. The road was as 
quiet and clear as if no army were in the vicinity. 
A mile from Centreville we met that New Jersey 
regiment, a private of which, Mr. Russell says, 
threatened to “ shoot him if he did not halt.” The 
officers were turning back the few fugitives, not a 
dozen in all, that were on their way in ; but, recog¬ 
nized as a civilian, as the Times correspondent 


must have been, we passed to the rear unchal¬ 
lenged. Mr. Russell, at that moment, could not 
have been half a mile behind us. Pushing on 
slowly we were overtaken by Col. Hunter’s car¬ 
riage, in which he, wounded, was going to the city. 
Mr. Russell saw it, or says he saw it, attended by 
an escort of troopers, at the head of whom was a 
major, who “ considered it right to take charge of 
his chief and leave his battalion.” We saw no 
troopers nor major. Hon. Isaac N. Arnold, of the 
House, was riding by the side of the vehicle, and 
he, a smooth-faced gentleman, in the garb of a 
civilian, may have been mistaken by our “ own cor¬ 
respondent” for a doubtful man of war. Possibly 
two miles and a half from Centreville, we stopped 
at a road-side farm house for a cup of water. 
While drinking, Mr. Russell passed. We recog¬ 
nized him, rode along, and were soon engaged with 
him in a discussion of the causes of the check—it 
was not then known to be any thing more ; and, in 
his company, we went on through Fairfax, in all a 
distance, perhaps, of six or eight miles; and we 
can affirm that not one incident which he relates 
as happening in that stretch, had any foundation in 
fact. We saw nothing of that Englishman of whom 
he says: • 

“ It was about this time I met a cart by the road¬ 
side, surrounded by a group of soldiers, some of 
whom had ‘ 69 ’ on their caps. The owner, as I 
took him to be, was in great distress; and cried 
out, as I passed, ‘ Can you tell me, sir, where the 
Sixty-ninth are ? These men say they are cut to 
pieces.’ ‘ I can’t tell you.’ ‘ I’m in charge of the 
mails, sir, and I will deliver them if I die for it. 
You are a gentleman, and I can depend on your 
word. Is it safe for me to go on?’ Not knowing 
the extent of the debacle , I assured him it was, and 







. DOCUMENTS. 


13 


asked the men of the regiment how they happened 
to be there. ‘ Shure, the colonel himself told us 
to go olf every man on his own hook, and to fly for 
our lives,’ replied one of them. The mail agent, 
who told me he was an Englishman, started the 
cart again. I sincerely hope no bad result to him¬ 
self or his charge followed my advice.” 

We rode into Fairfax together. 

“I reached Fairfax Court House; the people, 
black and white, with anxious faces, were at the 
doors, and the infantry under arms. I was be¬ 
sieged with questions, though hundreds of fugitives 
had passed through before me.” 

It is a small matter, this, but it marks the accu¬ 
racy of the man. Not a question was asked of Mr. 
Russell nor of us ; not a “ fugitive,” we dare affirm, 
had passed that way ; the infantry—another New 
Jersey regiment, if we are not mistaken—were 
at their usual evening parade, supposing, no doubt, 
that their companions in arms had won a great 
victory. 

“ At one house I stopped to ask for water for 
my horse ; the owner sent his servant for it cheer¬ 
fully, the very house where we had in vain asked 
for something to eat in the forenoon. ‘There’s a 
fright among them,’ I observed in reply to his ques¬ 
tion concerning the commissariat drivers. ‘ They’re 
afraid of the enemy’s cavalry.’ ‘ Are you an Amer¬ 
ican?’ said the man. ‘No, I am not.’ ‘Well, 
then,’ he said, ‘ there will be cavalry on them soon 
enough. There’s twenty thousand of the best horse¬ 
men in the world in Virginnv.’ ” 

At the little one-horse tavern in Fairfax, the 
horses—Mr. R.’s and our own—were watered, by 
a servant; but the reported conversation did not 
take place. A short distance from that inn, Mr. 
Russell put spurs to his animal, and, riding fu¬ 
riously, left us behind ; he picked up ample mate¬ 
rial for misrepresentation, however, as he went. 
We point out the greatest falsehood, if one false¬ 
hood can be greater than another, in the columns 
that he has devoted to the vilification of our 
troops: 

“Washington was still 18 miles away. The road 
was rough and uncertain, and again my poor steed 
was under way ; but it was no use of trying to out¬ 
strip the runaways. Once or twice I imagined I 
heard guns in the rear, but I could not be sure, in 
consequence of the roar of the flight behind me. 
It was most surprising to see how far the foot sol¬ 
diers had contrived to go on in advance.” 

It must have been surprising indeed! From the 
moment of meeting the First New Jersey regiment, 
of which we have spoken, not a soldier, unless one 
of a baggage, or a picket-guard, did we see on the 
road—not one. The wagons going in were few, 
and theic progress was not such as to indicate that 
they were making a retreat. We faced train after 
train going out with supplies, without guard, and 
without suspicion that the army was beaten and in 


flight. The defeat was not known to any on the 
road, not even to Mr. Russell, who informed us that 
our army would fall back and encamp for the night, 
only to renew the battle the next day. The “ roar 
of the flight behind me” is a stretch of the imagi¬ 
nation. We were “behind me,” and heard the 
guns, and marked the time as 1: 15 ; but save our 
poor old thick-winded steed, there was not another 
horse on the road within our sight. A few car¬ 
riages with wounded, a few retiring civilians—none 
making haste, none suspecting the finale that was 
reached—soon passed us; but not an armed man, 
trooper nor footman, was anywhere near. Mr. Rus¬ 
sell in the next paragraph confesses as much : 

“ It was a strange ride, through a country now 
still as death, the white road shining like a river in 
the moonlight, the trees black as ebony in the 
shade; now and then a figure flitting by into the 
forest or across the road—frightened friend or 
lurking foe, who could say ? Then the anxious 
pickets and sentries all asking, ‘What’s the news?’ 
and evidently prepared for any amount of loss.” 

The truth is probably this : The imaginative cor¬ 
respondent left the battle-ground before any confu¬ 
sion occurred, and when the retrograde movement 
was ordered. Hearing the exaggerated stories of 
what came to be a flight, after he got into Wash¬ 
ington, on Monday, while the excitement was at its 
height, he wove them into his letter as facts of his 
own observation. The rout was disgraceful enough 
to make any man’s blood cold in his veins; but it 
was not what Mr. Russell describes. As we have 
asserted, he did not see it. 

From the Providence Journal. 

To the Editor of the Journal: 

Mr. Russell, who occupies so large a space in 
the London Times in giving a description of “What 
he saw” at the repulse of “Bull Run,” was at no 
time within three miles of the battle-field, and was 
at no time within sight or musket-shot of the enemy. 

He entered Centreville after the writer of this, 
and left before him. At the period of the hardest 
fighting, he was eating his lunch with a brother 
“John Bull,” near Gen. Miles’s head-quarters. 

When the officer arrived at Centreville, announc¬ 
ing the apparent success of the Federal forces, (of 
which he gives a correct description,) it was 4 
o’clock. The retreat commenced in Centreville at 
half-past four. During this half hour he went 
about one mile down the Warrenton road, and 
there met the teams returning, with some straggling 
soldiers and one reserve regiment, which were not 
in the fight. He did not wait to see the main por¬ 
tion of the army, which did not reach Centreville 
until about two hours after his flight. 

His excuse for hurrying to Washington on ac¬ 
count of mailing his letter that night, is inconsis- 







I. 




14 


REBELLION RECORD, 1860-61. 


0F CONGRESS 



0 013 701 916 4 


tent with his statement that he went to bed, and 
that the mail did not leave until 4 o’clock the next 
morning. » 

He probably dreamed of the statements which he 
furnishes the Times , that there were no batteries 
taken—no charges made ; that the Union forces 
lost five batteries, 8,000 stand of arms, &c., &c., 
and no doubt reflected his own feelings when he 
calls the Union forces cowardly at being repulsed 
after marching twelve miles and fighting three or 
four hours an entrenched enemy which numbered 
more than three to one. W. E. H.* 

To the Editor of the Journal: 

At last we have it. After two Atlantic voyages 
it is “salt” enough, all must admit, and more than 
that, we must admit that, what he saw of the affair 
at Bull Run he has described with graphic and 
painful truth. 

But, as your correspondent, W. E. H., who knew 
more of his personal movements than I did, says, 
“ He was at no time within three miles of the bat¬ 
tle-field,” and consequently was no better informed 
upon the subject than you were, Mr. Editor, sitting 
in your sanctum. Therefore the earlier struggles 
of the day—the hard won successes of the Union 
troops—receive but passing notice, because he did 
not see them —he only saw the rout. 

Yet in another letter, from which I have only 
seen extracts, he arrives at various conclusions, 
“from further information acquired.” One is that 
“ there was not a charge of any kind made by the 
confederate cavalry upon any regiment of the enemy 
until they broke.” If this be true, the Fire Zou¬ 
aves are all liars, and thousands of spectators were 
deceived, including Major Barry, of the artillery, 
who states expressly in his report that the cavalry 
charged upon the Fire Zouaves. 

Mr Russell says, “there were no masked batteries 
at play on the side of the Confederates.” Either 
he was grossly misinformed, or he purposely dis¬ 
torts the truth by quibbling on the word masked. If 
a masked battery is absolutely one concealed by 
carefully constructed abatis, or elaborate mantelets, 
such as Mr. Russell has perhaps seen in India or the 


Crimea, and nothing else, then it is very possible 
there were none upon the field; but if it is a bat¬ 
tery of siege or fight artillery, with or without en¬ 
trenchments, so placed that it is entirely concealed 
by woods, underbrush, or artificial screens until the 
attacking force is close upon it, then I am one of 
thousands who can bear witness to the existence 
of several such upon the hill east of our (Rhode 
Island) field of action. I did not see either fortifi¬ 
cations or cannon; but when a puff of smoke is 
seen to issue from a piece of woods, followed by a 
heavy report and a heavier ball—when this goes 
on for hours, the missiles ploughing up the earth in 
every direction, and sowing it broadcast with the 
dead, one is likely to conclude that there is some¬ 
thing behind that screen of trees, and that some¬ 
thing is my idea of a masked battery. 

Finally, he says, “ There were no desperate 
struggles except by those who wanted to get away.’’ 

Of course not. He did not see them, and he is 
too truthful to relate any thing he did not see. 

His account of the retreat is no worse than the 
truth— what he saw of it. But be it remembered 
that he was with the very advance of the flying 
column, the most panic-stricken portion of the 
crowd—that he was in Washington at 11 p. m. of 
Sunday, about the hour when our regiments and 
many others camped in the vicinity of Centreville, 
having regained our quarters, were fighting fires, 
drying our clothes, or talking over the prospect of 
a renewed attack on Manassas next day. Many of 
us lay down to sleep, from which we woke, more 
astonished than Mr. Russell himself, at the idea of 
continuing our retreat to Washington; but the 
order came from head-quarters, and we obeyed. 
Of this, or of the good order preserved by several 
regiments, including ours, all the way from the 
battle-field to Cub Run, and again resumed after 
three or four miles, Mr. Russell says nothing—he 
did not see it —he wasn’t there. 

Yet his story will be received as Times' gospel, 
not to be gainsayed, by hundreds of thousands in 
England, while the contradiction, if it ever reaches 
there, will come as a stale American apology, un¬ 
worthy of belief. De W.* 


* Mr. William E. Hamlin, of Providence, R. I. 


* Winthrop De Wolf. 


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